


Wet 'n' Wild

by GuardianofFun



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Cold Weather, M/M, necessitates hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-13 01:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11173815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianofFun/pseuds/GuardianofFun
Summary: I wrote a short thing about Archer and Shran getting cold and damp and then they hug that's literally all there is to it.





	Wet 'n' Wild

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt I got on tumblr for hugs while it snows outside.
> 
> this is awful please dont read it

“You humans are useless aren’t you,” Shran says as Archer pulls his coat tighter around him. Archer grunts as he tugs his scarf higher up his face, and Shran smirks. Earth’s winter is warmer than summer on Andoria, he really can’t see what Archer is complaining about. They’re almost back to the cabin anyways, but Archer is acting as though they have to cross a fijord.

“Come on pinkskin,” he jibes, speeding up to jump the steps of the porch. Archer moves slowly while he opens the door, activating the lights as his partner stomps the snow from his boots. Archer barrels through the door making Shran snort.

“It’s not that cold,” he says, throwing himself onto the sofa. Archer throws him a glare as he peels sodden layers of clothes off. 

“I’m soaked through!” he argues as his socks come off. He motions as though he’s going to throw it at Shran.

“That will be an act of war Captain,” he warns. Archer decides better and throws the wet sock onto the growing pile of damp clothes. As he begins to remove his shirt, a shiver runs through him. Shran sighs and stands, moving to stand behind the taller man.

“Need a hand?” he purrs, fingers making quick work of Archer’s buttons. Archer makes a pleased hum in response as rough denim falls to the floor with a soft thump. Shran presses up against Archer’s back, feeling him lean back into him. Another tremble shakes him, so Shran wraps his arms around Archer.

“Still cold?” he asks again, the question innocent, his voice less so.

“I think I’m starting to defrost,” Archer replies, turning to face him. He slings his own arms over Shran’s shoulders and pulls him closer, burying his head in the crook of his neck.

“I could use some more help though,” he quips, and it’s Shran’s turn to make a pleased noise, as Archer’s lips roam his neck. Somehow, they make it to the bedroom and the pile of wet clothes on the floor go untouched for hours.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry <3


End file.
